Apathetical incorrectness

Tyranny is a ridiculed master, greedy for success of position and wealth, a success story of thwarted cynical evil
Power is a condition of the mind threatening control over the fearful to speak out the truth or  to believe in an alternative opinion, lest they be deceitfully destroyed
Capitalism although intricately designed for the growth of wealth for all, is a tool which the haves of power and tyranny use for the excuse of controlling the nation, blaming the poorest for wanting something that they themselves  abuse to the end of their own greediness.
Xenophobia is a hatred of foreigners adjoined with racism to gain the same end , it is a condition brought on by a fear of people different to ones self, the same as pointing out a spot on another child’s face in school, a person with a disfigurement that others dare not look at. A person mistreated for being weak. It is a strong tool used by politicians to gain power by evoking fear into the heart of everyman and woman in the street which has by deceitful means of the government brought the United Kingdom the vote of a Brexit from the European community, the obvious reason for this would be breaking down of Health and Safety regulations including protection of workers rights for obvious gains.
Fascism is a combination of Tyranny, Power, Capitalism, Xenophobia, Jealousy, hatred, fear. not purity as Adolf Hitler would have had the world believe. No it is an evil, a cold hearted  greedy collector of wealth by villainous means it can and must be overcome by the masses of Good hearted people all over the earth looking around at each and every person as another ordinary person that requires food, a home, a car, a Job and a loving family, putting aside age, gender, race, wealth and any other idiosyncratic reason for jealousy or hatred of others because they are different. Fear is also the enemy within everyone of us.
Or maybe I’m being simplistic

No historical statute left by S.A. Scope.

Once proud England stood low on the mountainside, the greatest war lost with no last post, greediest of worms weakening the foundations of the pure white suited host.
Blue blood is the colour of the already dead corpse that defeated the dove, incomplete without wings, peacocks of the millennium hoodwinked, magpies claw away remains of roadkill, minority fleeing, congratulatory sings.
Era ended away to crumbling farcical amusement, reducing at a level of absurdity, crime in the hood, needles of a drug addict, not exactly a peasant revolt moreover a joining at a level of accomplished nothingness with beauty.

Af.....is.......let...

Dear ...........
I don’t know how to begin this ...... ...........leaving for a most important.......... I may  not return due to the dangerous conditions as there are lots of.............. bastards will know. Further more can you visit.............. Next year. I hope to see you at............. winter cheer with a beer and a Happy new.......... car is in the wash........... as I am selling plenty of them at................. the time to go and collect the dosh. Please give my love to............. all the beautiful.................wildebeest are amazing.....................torn apart by lions or grazing, anyway I...................... closing, make out what you say, I’ll be coming home in.......
Au revoir
Patric....

Sweet Little Creature

In the dark shadows where the deepest doth lay, beneath the brambles on a hot summers day, hidden underneath the bails of old hay is a sweet little creature who’s birthday is in May.

A collision of thunder, a pelting of rain, a cool bitter winter stands in the way, snowy covered fields on a icy cold day, but it does not destroy or change the mood of the sweet little creature who’s birthday is in May.

Enter the spring when the winter has failed, beginning new life with all that’s allowed, soft soil found from trodden old leaves, planting afresh dispersing the seed, yet “what happened to the past?”  You hear some of them say, the hedgehog laughs on, still hidden away to the sweet little creature who’s birthday is in May.

New Born starting life every place around, there are lots of baby kits around to be found, a new little owl has fallen to the ground, a feed for a fox teaching her cubs silence, not making a sound. “It’s a wonderful time of year” some would say, except the sweet little creature who’s birthday is in May, sadly fell  asleep and died on this day under the bail, of rotten old hay.

Rethink

Wile away, while I am away, waste your time staring all day for you might miss something if you turn away from the fireplace clock that ticks and tocks from June till May.
The futures in the past, if we’ve  learnt from our mistakes, fashion once again bell bottoms at a stake, not likely with those high waists.
I keep fit, thinking hard about it, that poor horse  has a bite on a bit, like chewing gum, what an ache in the jaw with a gnaw, better than a bite in the head or the bum
Once upon a time when I did not have a dime (or a penny) could pull a piece of string through a needle, now twine is like a rope, I hope I get that letter from the queen. I hope.
Heads gone crazy, busy or lazy, I cannot clear my mind, “no I’m going to town, what’s with the frown, “no I don’t remember booking that circus to see a damn clown” . “I know he is five and it’s his birthday, oh he is six, is he my grandson?, no need to get shirty”, where did it go?
It’s despicable, unpredictable, Tuesday night I went for a walk and was hit by a fool on a bicycle, he never apologised, not a word, worst thing is he never heard the rude things I called him, it was dark, there are 25 thousand traffic lights in the uk, where was I ? Okay.
Look in your wing mirror, a little bump could cause misery to an unsuspecting jerk on a motorcycle, my, my, red is a beautiful colour, depending on your point of view.
0800 3627784 been buying PPI since 1984, “no I haven’t had an accident”, “JW take your foot from my door” remember religion can be a bore, yes, the beatles were top draw, "you throw the dart mate and ill keep score". "Please take me off your List!.
light a candle for your friend, he’ll never send the message, he could not send or eat dinner with us again. I’d love a fish tank, 500 gallons should do it, no I can’t swim.

Norman

He’s big, He’s old, He’s rather bold, on his arms his muscles have dropped instead of being up on top. His scars are there for all to see, marks of hardship in his history.
His children see dad,  his grandchildren see nothing, a bald headed old man that once was something, he stood on one whilst swinging at another, back to back with his hard arsed brother.
 One day on a dark winter night, a shot in the dark through a gangsters sight. Blood ran fast from his temple down, he fell in the river and almost drowned, surviving a hit, his brother did not, stabbed in the chest from a criminal yob, a big part of him died that day, his brother lost, gone...away.
Sat in his chair now, quiet, in thoughts, memories of times he could have bought, a flash suit, Italian shoes, a Ford Cortina, he met a beautiful woman, you should have seen her, wife of ten years until she was not, he remembered her mostly until he forgot.
Retirement leaves him quite alone, surrounded by family wishing him gone, forty years a special in the force, the police were his closest family of course, long hours, long years, lots of joy and lots of tears, a Medal for the times he done his best, a fairly good pension for years of fight, it does not help him sleep at night.
The nights are dark and woefully long, so much time left to continue on, grand children look at him and say “old man”, give us thirty quid I’m in a jam, really to buy 1/4 of a gram.

Alarm

alarm... ‘get up’... Doze
alarm alarm.... ‘get up!’.... Doze
Alarm alarm alarm... ‘get up get up!’.... Doze
ALARM ALARM....’GET UP!’..... Doze, have wee
ALARM! ALARM! ALARM! ALARM!
wife.... “WILL YOU TURN OFF THAT BLOODY ALARM, AND GET UP!!”
get up... “Sorry”
Panic